This is the thirtieth episode of the novel Two Tamas in Paradise. There are fifty episodes. This is the fourth novel in the Trace Troy South Pacific Adventure series.
It may now be purchased on Amazon. It is available in paperback or Kindle digital format.
Two Beers in Raro
Adam manned the pilothouse at dinner time. Trace sat at the mess table with the crew and passengers.
Once everyone had sat and started eating, Trace said. “Thank you, everyone, for being here.”
“You’re the captain,” Maxwell said, “we have no choice.”
Trace half-smiled and gave Maxwell an annoying glance. “I wanted to give everyone, in particular our passengers, the option of staying overnight at Rarotonga or restocking and heading back to sea immediately. It’s been a long trip so far, and there’s more ocean ahead of us.”
“How long if we just restock?” Maxwell asked.
“A couple of hours,” Trace said. “In that time, you could go to shore and maybe shop for a few things. Don’t worry, we’re not going to leave anybody behind if they’re not back in time.”
“Giving us an option likely means you’d like to spend more time off the boat and you think we need it,” Calvin said.
“I'm just thinking that in a day or two out, we could regret not spending enough time on shore to chill off a bit,” Trace said.
“You’re the captain,” Calvin said.
“What if we spend the night and leave the next day?” Maxwell said.
“Any objections?” Trace asked and looked around the table. No one said anything. “That’s settled, we’ll spend the night.”
Trace filled a tray with two plates of food and took it up to the pilothouse.
“Thanks,” Adam said, seeing the meal on the tray.
“I choose not to eat with Maxwell,” Trace said. “He just looks smarmy.”
“He is,” Adam said and started eating.
Trace sat on the bench with the tray of food in his lap. “This is the fish they caught. Makani did a good job.”
“Not bad,” Adam said, eating from his plate on the chart desk. “What time will we get to Rarotonga?”
“Should be around eight or nine in the morning,” Trace said.
“What do we need?” Adam said.
“Fresh fruits and vegetables,” Trace said. “Makani said we’re plenty good on rations. I’ll fill the water tanks and top off the fuel.”
“I’d like to go somewhere for a beer,” Adam said.
“We can both use one,” Trace said. “And I’d like to find a store and pick up a few things. I’ll tell Makani to do the shopping, the first thing. I like to get the necessary things out of the way first. Doing things the last minute drives me crazy.”
“You going to make sure everybody sleeps on board tonight?” Adam asked.
“I’ll demand it,” Trace said. “I don’t want to lose track of my cargo. I gave an overnight stop on Rarotonga some serious thought. Stopping there means they’ll be on The Tramp Islander another fifteen or sixteen hours. The sooner I deliver them, the better. I don’t want them on this boat a minute more than necessary. That Maxwell smells of trouble.”
“It’s the cologne,” Adam smiled.
Sage took the wheel from 9:00 PM until 5:00 AM. Trace relieved him.
Before Sage ducked below, Trace said, “We’ll be in Rarotonga in three hours. What do you have planned?”
“I’m going to get a big bag of potato chips,” Sage said. “And if they have some RC Cola, I’m buying a case. And dad and I are going to have a pint of draft.”
“That will give you something to dream about,” Trace said. “And by the way, everybody sleeps on board tonight.”
“Aye, aye,” Sage said and climbed below.
The Tramp Islander neared Rarotonga. Dark clouds hung over the island like a hand pressing down. A half mile from the harbor, it began to rain. They got tied up in the rain.
Makani rapped on the passengers’ cabin door and called out that they were at Rarotonga.
Trace grabbed the mic. “Everybody is free to go on shore. Everyone must be back on The Tramp Islander by 10:00 PM tonight, that’s 10:00 PM tonight. We will be shoving off early in the morning. Everybody be safe.”
The rain stopped as if someone turned off a valve. A policeman was immediately there to greet them. Trace stood on deck, smiled, and waved.
“Welcome to Raro,” the policeman said. “How long will you stay?”
“Only overnight,” Trace said. “We are taking on fuel, water, and a few supplies.”
“Where are you from, and where will you be going?” The policeman said.
“We came from Fiji, Suva,” Trace said, “and we are sailing to Pitcairn.”
“If you plan on staying longer, inform the police,” the policeman said, “and as a matter of protocol, may I see your passport?”
Trace, expecting his passport would be asked for, removed it from his pants pocket. He handed it to the policeman.
He looked at it and looked at Trace. “Very good, enjoy your stay in Raro.” He handed the passport back to Trace. “No need to check the others.”
“Thank you,” Trace said.
The policeman looked over The Tramp Islander as he sauntered away.
An hour later, only Trace and Adam were onboard The Tramp Islander. Trace contacted two companies, and they delivered water and fuel. Makani returned with a small truckload of grocery items and fresh produce. Trace, Adam, and the truck driver helped Makani load the groceries onboard.
Trace and Adam left Makani on the boat. He stored the groceries away. Trace and Adam walked to the nearest bar and got a beer.
They sat at the bar and slowly sipped the beers from a glass. They shared a few stories.
There was a moment of silence as they sipped at the same time.
Before they set the glasses on the bar, Trace said, “This isn’t what you expected, is it?”
“What do you mean?” Adam said.
“You expected to island hop and see some of the old places,” Trace said.
“I thought about that,” Adam said. “But I really only want to go where the cargo and wind takes us. I’m with friends, my son, and four very interesting people. I hope we get them to where they want to go. If they got malice up their sleeves, I hope this trip purifies them. A lot of criminals go to sea and come back good men. The sea gives you time to meditate on what is good and greater than you.”
“Is that what happened to you?” Trace said.
“In a way,” Adam said. “I always knew ranching was where I’d end up. But I wanted to know something beyond Southwest Texas. I wanted to know how the world worked and how I fit in it. Coming here when I did, I was able to sort things out—long nights at the wheel, the wind, sea spray, the flap of the sails, and the sound of dashing waves. Some nights, not a sound, stars, galaxies, darkness, loneliness, and God.”
“I think I know what you mean,” Trace said. “I never got that on the Bering. There were times it was quiet, but not like here.”
“Some nights, now, on The Tramp Islander,” Adam said. “I strap the wheel and walk out on the deck for a while. And it’s like thirty years ago. It lasts for only a moment. But those moments surprise me. It’s like driving down a highway, and you go in and out of a tunnel. You are trapped in a forgotten time in the past and suddenly—reality.”
“How long are you going to stay?” Trace said.
Adam leaned back and looked at Trace. “Seriously, is this a way of saying this trip is it?”
“No, not at all,” Trace said. “Having you with me seems natural. What about you, are you thinking it’s about time for me to say, it’s time for you to go?”
“I’m having a great time,” Adam said, “but I know there is an end. It’s sooner rather than later from me. And it’s later rather than sooner for you.”
“Yeah,” Trace bobbed his head. “I’m liking this a whole lot. It’s not my career choice. I’ve always known ranching and cattle were where I was meant to be.”
“How many beers are we going to have?” Adam said.
“You always told me,” Trace said, “you drink only enough to tell a good story or two, listen to a good story or two, and wash the trail dust out of your gullet.”
“With that said,” Adam said, “I’ve reached my limit.” He pointed to the empty glass.
“I hope our passengers have a limit,” Trace said, sitting down an empty glass. “I’m not looking forward to seeing what kind of shape they’re in when they return.”
“We may have to put them to bed,” Adam said.
“They’re going to sleep where they drop,” Trace said.
“What about Sage and Coyote?” Adam said.
“Sage is a good boy, and what I remember about Coyote is that he always finds his way home,” Trace said.
“That’s him, alright,” Adam said. “And he’s learned how to make it into bed after a night of drinking without waking his dog or wife.”
Trace and Adam walked back to The Tramp Islander. They climbed onboard.
“I don’t know about you,” Adam said, “but if not for the others, I’m ready to sail.”
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